


The Special Illusionist

by SleepyNyash



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 23:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16628864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyNyash/pseuds/SleepyNyash
Summary: fran doesn't like his life. so what happens when a mystery man knowing his name shows up and offers him an escape?





	The Special Illusionist

Fran did not like life.

That was an unusual thought for a ten year old, but he knew without a single doubt that he hated life.

When his mom discovered his strong distaste for femininity, she forced it on him. She’d sit him in her lap and slather make-up on him. The first time she’d done it, he cried. She smiled, reapplied the makeup, and said he was a beautiful girl and he decided he hated her.

His dad was just as bad. He bought expensive dresses with frills and ribbons in bright pink and yellow and orange, he bought ballet flats with ribbons and white sandals with felt flowers, he bought ribbons and clips for his hair.

The biggest insult was when they signed him up for a private school with a gendered uniform code and dumped him at his grandma’s place in Jura, France. He spent hours in a puffy blouse, a knee length skirt, stockings, and flats. The last thing they said was how beautiful he’d be when he stopped pretending before returning to the city.

The only good thing was his grandma didn't mind much what he did. He cut his own hair as short as he could, dyed it green, and wandered the house in boxers and a tee. He filled his room with books on the supernatural and actually found out he had a very special ability- he could cast illusions.

It wasn't long before he got fed up with school. He refused to make friends but one girl refused to leave him alone. They got along ok, except she misgendered him and deadnamed him on purpose. He barely tolerated her, really only keeping her close so others would leave him alone.

He was thinking all these things as he dumped out a lunch box his grandmother had made. She was kind but she was too old to know how to prepare a decent meal.

That's when a man showed up, knowing his name. He was gorgeous in a scary charismatic way, much like a serial killer might be, his mismatched red and blue eyes watching him with interest and pineapple styled dark blue hair barely moving in the wind. Two boys were behind him, one disinterested and the other with his tongue out like a dog.

So when the man (who probably wasn't older than a teen to be honest) offered to take Fran away, he agreed. His only request was he be allowed to bring his books.

 

They arrived at an abandoned, run down place in Japan.

“You can pick any room you’d like.” the man, who had introduced himself as Mukuro Rokudo, spoke. “We’ll get you a uniform soon.”

“Not a girl’s one, right?” Fran asked, actually nervous.

Mukuro frowned, “Why would I-”

Fran gritted his teeth, “I’m a boy. Not a girl. Got it?”

The blonde, Ken looked stunned, “Aren't you a bit young to think about gender?”

Fran lifted his green eyes to Mukuro, “Boys uniform or else.”

Mukuro snorted, “As you wish.” he gestured around the room, “Bedrooms are that way.”

“Cool.” Fran stomped off, carrying his books in a suitcase. He found a room and then slammed the door shut.

Ken looked at Mukuro, “Uh, is he ok?”

Mukuro stared down the hall with a frown, “We’ll see soon enough.”

 

A few hours later, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Fran, dinner.”

Fran was huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth, struggling not to hyperventilate.

Chikusa knocked again, “Fran, food.”

“Go away.”

“Fran, eat.”

“Go away.”

He heard a gentle sound of footfalls fading. He counted for sixty seconds before crawling towards the door. He pressed himself flat against the floor, checking for shadows. When he didn't see one, he cracked the door about an inch and looked around.

A plate of food sat in front of his door with a soda can.

His empty stomach rumbled noisily and he dragged it inside.

 

Three days had passed since Mukuro Rokudo had brought his new apprentice back from France and he was getting irritated- and very worried.

It was hard to worry him, but Fran’s behavior was beyond odd. He knew from the memories of the future that the green haired boy had been apathetic and often hostile to others but this was very unusual behavior and Mukuro was beginning to suspect Fran may have been abused.

He knew children were abused, especially if they very early on did not hold up to their parents expectations. And Fran… well…

He was just about to march over and kick the door in when he heard it creak open. Barely visible green hair poked out from the opening before the owner of the hair peeked down the hall.

Mukuro leaned back, looking relaxed. He nodded at him. Fran blinked and stepped out but didn't come closer.

Well, it was progress.

“Good morning.” Mukuro greeted with a wave.

Fran shifted, looking pointedly away before replying, “Morning.”

Very odd indeed.

At least he was speaking.

“If you come closer, we can talk.” Mukuro tried to sound gentle. He could pull it off but he was already impatient.

Ken looked up from his video game and sniffed in distaste, “Oh, you're out.”

Fran took a step back. That's when Mukuro noticed he was shaking.

Fran was scared.

Mukuro sighed, “Come here, little one.”

Fran steeled himself, almost visibly, before stepping closer. He kept his gaze on the floor until he was a good foot away from the trio of boys.

“Thank you.” Mukuro leaned forward slightly, “How’d you sleep?”

Fran shook his head.

“I’m not going to hurt you, little one. I’m going to teach you about illusions.”

Fran looked up, head still pretty low, “That's… not what I’m…”

“Worried about?” Mukuro finished. “Then, pray tell, what is?”

“You’ll let me be myself, won't you?” it was barely a whisper. Ken and Chikusa had paused their game and were now staring in wide-eyed confusion and growing concern.

“Why wouldn't I?”

No response.

“Your parents didn't let you, I assume.”

Fran flinched hard like he’d been slapped. Mukuro felt the urge to bundle him up and hug him for hours before hunting down the adults and skinning them alive.

“I see.”

Fran squeezed his eyes shut.

“Little one, I’ll be honest- I don't care about you beyond your abilities. I’m simply your teacher, your master, nothing more. Whatever you do during your free time or identify as or anything of the sort is of no concern to me.” Mukuro spoke plainly. “I will not love you like a parent or sibling. I will not love you at all. My only expectation is for you to practice and fight when I say so.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say because he saw the small boy relax. Fran lifted his head, green eyes boring into him with barely contained relief.

“That works for me.”

 

After the Arcobaleno were freed of their curse, Mukuro formally introduced his apprentice to the Varia.

He loathed Italy and the mafia, but the Varia would help with his training. He stared up at the mansion with a frown, contemplating abandoning the idea until a later date when a subordinate opened the gate and led them inside. Fran was clinging to the hem of Mukuro’s jacket, a passive stare locked forward.

Mukuro eyed the Varia’s leader, Xanxus. His guardians were either sitting or standing close by. Fran frowned at them.

“I see you're here.” Xanxus grunted. “And you brought him.”

“As I said I would.” Mukuro replied. “I’ll return at the end of the month for him.”

Belphegor was stretched out like a lazy cat, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Mu, drop the illusion.”

Fran dropped his hand to his side, “What illusion?”

“You're cloaking yourself.” Mammon clarified.

Mukuro facepalmed.

“Shut up.” Fran replied.

“Drop it. It’s pointless to waste energy over something as trivial as boobs.”

The room fell quiet and Belphegor sat up. Squalo was gaping. Lussuria had a hand over his mouth.

“Excuse me?” Lussuria asked. “Why would he-?”

“You jerk.” Fran huffed, folding his arms across his chest. Mukuro sighed loudly.

“Voi! Mammon! You can't go outing people!” Squalo roared. He glanced at his boss.

“It’s not like it matters anyway, trash.” Xanxus glared at the skinny boy in front of him. “No one here cares about that shit.”

Fran looked up at Mukuro, eyes silently asking _How do you want to play this out?_

Mukuro put a hand on his shoulder, “Remember, I’ll be back at the end of the month. Mammon will take over as a tutor while you're here.”

Fran nodded, “Fine. Whatever, I guess.”

Mukuro bowed only slightly and turned on his heels, walking back outside.

He felt a little bad about leaving him there but his own awful childhood memories prevented him from staying longer.

 

Fran was frowning at the people in front of him. He’d only brought a backpack of clothes and a few books and didn't know what to expect upon his arrival.

Xanxus scowled before shooting the younger blonde a glare, “You and Mammon look after him. Got it?”

The blonde grinned slightly and nodded. Mammon floated over and frowned.

“Alright, c’mon. There's a room prepared for you already.”

Fran shifted his weight and followed the pair up the stairs wordlessly. The inside of the mansion was just as impressive as the outside, if not moreso because it hadn't been destroyed by the scary drunk man running the place. There were a few paintings and the furniture looked expensive. Windows allowed a person to see the spacious backyard and a little bit of the city.

“A little further down,” the blonde in need of a haircut spoke, “and we’re there.”

“Question- what's your name?”

“I’m Belphegor. Or you can call me ‘prince’, ‘your highness’-”

“Fake prince senpai.” Fran declared boldly, green eyes glittering at the joke he’d made.

Belphegor turned and flicked a knife in his direction. It imbedded itself in the wall right beside him. Fran eyed it.

“This is extremely unique. You took too much time caring about the design.” Fran remarked.

“I’m gonna stab you next time you call me that.” Belphegor warned, his psycho happy smile not fading.

“Sure thing, Cheshire Cat.”

Mammon snickered, “That was actually funny.”

“Shut up, pipsqueak.” Bel marched down the hall and opened the room with a key. “Here you are. Make yourself at home.”

Fran shrugged off his backpack and leaned it against the door as he peered inside.

The room was very plain, no decorations. The bed was huge, probably a king or queen size, and the covers were a plain lavender with mint green pillows and curtains. A large dark wood bookcase leaned against a wall with a few books on a shelf. A nightstand made of the same wood was less than an inch away from the bed. Two lamps lit the room.

Fran stepped further inside and opened the closest door, revealing a walkin closet of decent size. There weren't any clothes in it, but that would be remedied soon enough.

He opened another door which led to an impressive bathroom. The rugs were a pale lavender and the curtain was mint green.

“We didn't know what you’d like.” Mammon explained. “Bel’s been ordered to buy you stuff to decorate, since you’ll be here awhile and return pretty often. Once you're older, you’ll end up here full-time, so it's easier if you get used to it earlier.”

Fran turned around, “It’s fine, I guess. But buying stuff is nice.” He paused before asking, “Anything I want?”

“Within reason. No pets. You can get posters, books, clothes.” Bel waved his hand. “Don't worry about price. I am a prince after all.”

“I thought princesses wore tiaras, though.” Fran teased.

“Hey, now-”

“I know I’m a rock star.” Fran interrupted.

“Shishishishi! That was actually funny.” Bel pulled a card out from his skinny leather pants and wiggled it in the air. “Ready to burn through a few thousand dollars?”

Fran eyed the card with delight, “Sounds like a good way to kill time.”

 

Belphegor opened the door to his room, which was just down the hall from Fran’s room.

“Lazy much?”

“Yup.” Bel hopped onto his extra fancy bed and pulled a sleek silver laptop off his nightstand. Mammom floated and sat to his ride. Fran stepped over a pile of dirty clothes with a frown.

“This room is so messy, I bet there's fungus yet unknown to science growing under one of these piles.” he stated before pulling himself up on the bed.

“You're short.”

“I’m **eleven years old,** what did you expect?” Fran retorted, wiggling closer.

The screen lit up and Fran raised an eyebrow at the gory screensaver. Bel pulled up Amazon and waited patiently.

“This is gonna be fun.” Fran declared.

 

The end of the month rolled around and Mukuro once more found himself waiting at the gate of the Varia mansion. He hadn't spoken to his apprentice, which had been a struggle. His own past haunted him and his knowledge of the Varia left him barely comfortable. He knew they wouldn't kill him but he wondered if Fran would be scared of the violent adults.

He stepped through the front door and froze in his steps. Fran was stretched across Belphegor’s lap with a handheld video game system in his fingers. He was frowning at it intensely. Belphegor was grinning madly.

“How the hell are you beating me at this?” he demanded, blowing a stray strand of green fringe back in place. “How can you see past your hair?”

“Practice. Plus my reflexes are better.” Bel boasted.

“I hope you have nightmares about the day I own your ass at this.” Fran grumbled.

Mukuro cleared his throat, “Little one.”

Fran glanced over, “No need to make a noise, I knew it was you.”

“That's good-”

“No one else smells that strongly of pine.”

“Are you packed?” Mukuro asked lightly.

Fran sat up, eyes locked on the screen, “One sec.” He pressed a button before stuffing the game into his backpack. He hopped off the couch and waved, “Bye, senpai.”

“Later, loser.” Bel nodded.

Fran pulled the backpack on and walked up to Mukuro, “Hi, shishou.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

Mukuro led him back outside and remained quiet until they were further away. “So, how was your month?”

“It was ok. Bel-senpai bought me a bunch of stuff. He even sent some stuff to Japan.”

“Yes, it's in your room.”

“His credit card was no limit, I think. At first, I didn't get much but when he dropped a thousand without batting an eye, I ran with it. I’ve never owned a Nintendo before! He got me a lot of games too. And Mammon-senpai had this big collection of witchy books and I begged for hours before he let me read them.” Fran spoke, looking excited. “We watched a lot of scary movies but the noisy captain said nothing dirty til I’m older.”

“And your studies?” Mukuro inquired.

“My second week here, Mammon-senpai had me practice on a subordinate.” Fran looked up with a small grin. “He stopped eating and sleeping for several days from fear.”

“Kufufufu…”

“I know, right?” Fran bounced as he walked. “Mammon said I’d be very good in a matter of months.”

“Already you can fool Vendice.” Mukuro remarked with pride.

Fran’s eyes lit up, “And that was with a fever! Imagine the terror I’ll cause at 12!”

“A wonderful concept.” Mukuro sighed wistfully.

 

The plane ride back, Fran chatted excitedly about the ordinary stuff he’d done. The movies they’d watched together, the games they’d played, and how sometimes he fell asleep in Belphegor’s bed and woke up in his own.

_Why, he’s-_

“I can make Pokemon illusions, too, shishou!” Fran tugged at his sleeve. “I even electrified someone when I had a Pikachu use Nuzzle!”

_Why, he’s happy. And possibly crushing on Belphegor._ Mukuro thought, one dark blue eyebrow raised. “Little one, tell me something.”

“Anything in specific?”

“Are you crushing on him? Belphegor, I mean.”

Fran paused. Then gaped. Then stammered. Then snorted before rolling his eyes, “Hardly. He’s a bit too cheery.”

“Don't bother lying, I can read people very easily.” Mukuro chided.

Fran grumbled.

“He’s a bit older than you. Five years, if I remember correctly.”

“I don't plan on dating him!” Fran protested. “It’s just… he’s not as annoying as I thought he was. It’s not the money, but he’s kinda cool and fierce and stunning and actually nice in a subtle way.”

“Prince the Ripper is nice?”

“He let me challenge him to Pokemon battles with illusionary Pokemon and rant endlessly about supernatural creatures and he actually stabbed a guy for me!”

Mukuro looked down, alarmed, “What?”

Fran slumped against the plane seat, “Ok, so, not everyone was nice or even neutral or left me alone. There was one guy who wouldn't buzz off no matter my scathing comments and actually…” he sighed. “He called me a name. And not any name.”

Mukuro frowned, “I see.”

“I… kinda ran out of the mansion. A couple hours later, Bel-senpai brought me back and showed me how he’d stabbed the guy a few times. Later that week, Mammon-senpai let me practice my illusions on him.” he confessed.

“Well, I’m glad they shut him up. Other than that, did you have any problems?”

“Nah.” Fran shook his head. “If I wasn't practicing, I stayed busy. The worst part were meals cause of the yelling and whatnot but.” he shrugged. “Otherwise it was ok.”

Mukuro put a hand to his chest and sat back, “That's good.”

“Aw, shishou, were you worried for me?”

“Of course. If you were too frightened, you might not be willing to go back later or hide out in your room again.” Mukuro answered.

 

The plane landed and the duo made their way back to the run down building that was the hideout. Mukuro carried Fran on his back as he’d started dozing off as they walked. Concerned for his safety and wanting to get back sooner, Mukuro carried him.

Fran clung to him tightly, illusionary apple hat not on so he could sleep comfortably. Mukuro was warm and his presence was oddly comforting, even if he smelled more strongly of pine than a whole forest or a million pine scented candles.

He woke up a little as he was lowered onto his bed. He yawned and Mukuro pulled his boots off.

“Shishou?” he mumbled, one leg dangling over the edge of his bed.

“Hm?”

“Thanks.” he muttered, rolling onto his side.

“What for, little one?”

Fran yawned again, “Rescuing me.”

Mukuro’s gaze softened, “It benefited me as well.” He stood up and walked to the door, flicking the lights off.

“Gnight, shishou.” Fran called sleepily.

 

 

“Good night, little one.”

**Author's Note:**

> fran being trans always seemed right as i read the series. and the very distinct lack of *parents* left a lot of room for creativity. and in one chapter, there was a mistranslation where they called fran "she/her" instead of he/him. anyway, hope you enjoyed this!


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